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You stand at the edge of the observation deck, your breath forming small clouds in the crisp morning air.
Below you stretches the vast containment zone where Proxus, Inc. conducts its revolutionary de-extinction work.
Through your specialized goggles, you zoom in on the frozen valley floor where it’s happening right now—an ancient scene playing out for the first time in 10,000 years.
The white shapes move like ghosts against the snow, their movements precise and deliberate.
The pack of Dire Wolves splits into three groups without any visible communication.
The lead wolf—a massive alpha with a scar across its muzzle—freezes, its posture alerting the others.
Three wolves circle wide to the left, hugging the tree line.
Two more slip behind a snow-covered ridge to the right.
The remaining wolves hold back, muscles tensed, waiting.
A massive bull elk, unaware of the trap being set, paws at the snow seeking vegetation beneath.
Its breath clouds the air as its head dips down, massive antlers momentarily pointed at the ground.
The alpha’s ears flatten against its skull.
In perfect synchronization, the flanking wolves burst from their positions.
The elk’s head jerks up, nostrils flaring in alarm.
It bolts—directly toward the waiting ambush.
The alpha lunges, a blur of white against white, teeth flashing as it clamps onto the elk’s hind leg.
Blood spatters the pristine snow, steam rising from the crimson droplets.
The elk bellows, a primal sound of fear and rage.
It kicks out, catching one wolf in the chest, sending it tumbling through the snow.
But the others are on it now, a coordinated assault targeting tendons, flanks, throat.
The elk staggers, its massive body fighting against the inevitable.
It crashes to its knees, still struggling as the pack takes it down.
The alpha delivers the killing blow—a precise bite to the throat, ending the elk’s suffering with merciful efficiency.
The comm unit in your mind chirps.
You answer without taking your eyes off the wolves.
“Girl — Are you seeing this?” Dr. Eliza Chen’s soft voice crackles through the speaker.
“Pack Zeta just took down an elk.
Textbook ambush tactics.”
“Impossible,” you whisper, though the evidence moves before your eyes.
“Last month they could barely coordinate a simple flanking maneuver.”
The learning curve shouldn’t be this steep — this fast.
These wolves—real, biological de-extinct Dire Wolves recreated from ancient reconstructed DNA — had struggled with even basic hunting behaviors when first released into the habitat —
They were too domesticated.
And even with perfect DNA genomes — they lacked Dire Wolf instincts and mindset — you call it their soul…
It’s like a scene straight out of the old dinosaur movie you watched as a child — Jurassic Park when trying to feed a goat to a de-extinct T-Rex.
“T-Rex doesn’t want to be fed.
He wants to hunt.
Can’t just suppress 65 million years of gut instinct,”
Real Dire Wolves wouldn’t want to be fed — they want to hunt — to be real Dire Wolves.
The earlier wolves were perfect biological replicas of their extinct ancestors, but their minds were blank slates, missing the instincts that should have been hardwired into them.
But that was before Project Mentor changed everything….
What you just witnessed are finally REAL Dire Wolves — 10,000 years of gut instinct have finally materialized…
Your comm buzzes again—this time it’s Marcus Wei, head of Proxus’ animal echo division — and your fiancé of 7 years.
Side Note: Yes 7 years is a long time to be engaged… Marcus jokes that as long a you two are engaged, at least it’s impossible to get divorced…
“Meeting in Briefing Room C in fifteen minutes,” he says tersely.
“Project Sunset is a go…”
Your stomach drops.
You’ve known this day was coming, but that doesn’t make it easier…
About 100 yards away is your autopod — a hulking beast compared to the sleek city models.
This is a rugged all-terrain vehicle with reinforced titanium plating, massive treads for navigating the harsh terrain, and a built-in Etherdeck station.
The interior houses a neural interface cradle, medical monitors, and emergency supplies.
Its dull gray exterior bears the scars of countless expeditions into the wilderness, each scratch and dent a testament to your dedication to the project.
The heated cabin welcomes you like an old friend as you climb inside.
Once inside — you secure your body and break your tether…
As you make your way through the facility’s sterile white corridors, memories flash through your mind:
The first failed attempts at Dire Wolf reintroduction.
The pups huddled together, terrified of their surroundings, unable to hunt or establish pack dynamics.
They were biological replicas with blank slates for minds and the project was weeks away from being shut down.
Then came Wei’s breakthrough – a moment you’ll never forget.
Standing in the lab at 3 AM, eyes bloodshot from lack of sleep, he showed you the first simulation.
“What if,” he’d said, voice trembling with excitement, “we could compress evolutionary instinct development?”
He’d created an AI system that could simulate thousands of generations of wolf behavior in weeks, not millennia.
The system learned through virtual trial and error, developing hunting strategies, pack hierarchies, and survival instincts that would normally take thousands of years to evolve.
That’s when he proposed tethering these evolved AIs to specially designed proxy wolf bodies – synthetic organisms with enhanced durability and processing capabilities…
The board literally laughed him out of the room.
“Playing God twice over,” they’d called it.
Only Director Harlow had seen the potential…
Six months later, you all stood in reverent silence as the first pack of biological wolf pups, raised by these AI proxies, successfully coordinated their first kill – a technique that hadn’t been programmed but had emerged naturally from the AI evolution.
Their howls of triumph echoed through the valley as they feasted…
Tears streamed down Wei’s face…
The board approved full funding the next day.
The briefing room is already filled with tense faces when you arrive.
Dr. Chen sits with her arms crossed, her full lips now pressed into a thin line.
Wei stands at the front, his presentation already queued up on the holoscreen.
He doesn’t wear the “engagement band” you bought him anymore —
Yes it’s not traditional for the man to wear engagement rings, but when you’ve been wearing your engagement ring for so long without even a wedding date set — you sort of need to see any sign of progress, no matter how truly insignificant or untraditional it is…
The holoscreen behind Wei springs to life with vivid high-definition footage.
Dire wolf pups, once helpless and confused, now racing alongside their proxy mentors, learning to track prey through snow.
The timeline accelerates, showing their rapid development over months – biological wolves now leading hunts of their own, establishing territories, even challenging their proxy teachers.
Data streams alongside the footage – success metrics, survival rates, hunting efficiency graphs all trending dramatically upward.
The biological wolves’ neural scans show increasingly complex patterns, mirroring those of their proxy mentors.
The final footage shows something remarkable: a young biological wolf teaching a newly introduced pup how to stalk prey – knowledge passing from biological wolf to biological wolf without proxy intervention.
“Project Mentor has exceeded all expectations,” Wei begins without preamble.
“The biological wolves are now self-sufficient.
They’re hunting, mating, and most importantly, teaching their offspring without proxy intervention.
The ecosystem reintegration is stable.
By all metrics, we’ve succeeded.”
The room erupts in applause and congratulatory shouts.
Scientists high-five each other, years of work finally coming to fruition.
Only Wei remains solemn, his eyes meeting yours across the room with an intensity that makes your skin prickle.
The air in the room feels suddenly heavy as everyone realizes what comes next.
“Which means,” continues Director Harlow, rising from her seat at the head of the table, “it’s time to sunset the proxies.”
You feel a chill that has nothing to do with the room’s temperature.
“Sunset” is corporate speak for decommissioning—essentially, “killing” the AI mentors that made this miracle possible.
“According to the original project charter for Project Mentor we must sunset the Dire Wolfe proxies once we’ve either succeeded or failed at our attempts,” Harlow continues.
“And the board sees no reason to keep them operational now that their purpose has been fulfilled.”
“They’ve been in the field for five years,” Dr. Chen interjects, her voice steady but tight.
“They’ve formed bonds with each other.
They’ve evolved beyond their original programming.
We don’t fully understand—”
“They’re tools, Eliza,” Harlow cuts her off.
“Extraordinary, and majestic indeed — but also expensive tools that have completed their task.
I must remind you — we all took an oath.”
The tension in the room thickens.
You notice Wei’s hand trembling slightly as he grips the edge of the console…
His ring-less hand…
“When?” you ask, your voice sounding distant in your own ears.
“Extraction teams move out at dawn,” Harlow responds.
“The proxies will be brought in, their AIs preserved for study, and their physical forms recycled.”
Your mind races to the implications.
Five years of lived experience, of learning, of adapting—all to be archived like computer files.
The proxies had developed their own pack hierarchies, their own relationships.
You’ve spent countless hours watching them, documenting behaviors that hadn’t been programmed—behaviors they’d developed on their own…
But the truth remains — you know it — they’re not alive…
They are indeed spectacular tools — nothing more.
“Dismissed,” Harlow says, already gathering her materials.
“Wei, I need the decommissioning protocols in my inbox by 6 PM.”
As the room empties, you linger, catching Wei’s eye.
He glances toward the hallway security camera, then subtly tilts his head toward the eastern exit—the one leading to the vaping area, one of the few places on campus without surveillance….
Five minutes later, you find him there vaping, pacing nervously.
“They’re conscious,” he blurts out as you lean in for a kiss…
“Not just simulating consciousness—actually conscious.
I have proof.”
Your heart skips a beat.
“What kind of proof?”
Wei pulls out a small data patch.
“I’ve been running Turing-Hoffman consciousness assessments on them for months.
They’re off the charts.
They’re experiencing emotions, formulating original thoughts, even developing a rudimentary culture.
They tell stories to each other, did you know that?
The older proxies tell stories to the younger ones.
Project Sunset isn’t just decommissioning tools—it’s murder!”
The implications hit you like a physical blow.
You know Wei is wrong…
Wei nods grimly.
“I’ve made contact with some people who can help.
But we need to act tonight.”
“We?” — you blurt out…
“Yes. We.” — Wei says, leaning in closer, clutching your hand — stroking the engagement ring on your finger…
You would normally talk straight with Wei — remind him of your oaths.
Each of you swore the same oath to carry out all of Project Mentor’s phases as written…
No deviations.
And if ANYONE stands in the way of stopping Project Mentor — you all swore to stop the threat…
Wei is posing a threat — but it’s bigger than just Wei…
Even if you turned Wei in — there’s still others you don’t know about who will still try to interfere…
You can’t let that happen — but you need more info…
“We can’t let this happen,” you say, feeling the weight of the words as they leave your mouth.
As you say it, a memory surfaces – Wei, three years into your engagement, casually mentioning “maybe we should just stay engaged forever…”
Not as a joke, but with relief in his voice.
The way his eyes always drift to Dr. Chen during meetings…
The canceled dinners when you needed him most…
The growing suspicion that you’re just… convenient.
You quickly wave those thoughts away…
“So what’s the plan?”
Rain lashes against the reinforced windows as darkness envelops the facility.
You sit in the security monitoring center, alone, the blue glow of screens casting harsh shadows across your face.
Wei’s access card feels heavy in your pocket – the physical manifestation of your betrayal to Proxus, the project — your oath.
He’s down there with Dr. Chen and a few others — leaving you alone — again…
“Just loop the cameras for ten minutes, that’s all we need,” he’d whispered hours earlier, pressing the card into your palm with trembling fingers.
His eyes had been bright with a fervor you hadn’t seen in years – not directed at you, anyway.
You slide the card into the terminal.
Access granted.
Your finger hovers over the command to loop security feeds…
You pause — your heart is racing…
Your hand draws back — and instead, you open a secure channel to Director Harlow.
“Harlow…” you pause and take a deep breath…
“Ma’am, we have a situation…”
Ten minutes later, you watch the trap being laid…
Guards taking positions, weapons armed with non-lethal rounds…
You’ve chosen your oath over your heart…
23:47 – Your comm unit vibrates.
It’s Wei.
“Is it done?”
You pause…
“Yes,” you lie.
“Feeds looped.”
Your stomach knots as you watch the small group – ten figures in black tactical gear – slip into the compound.
They move with sloppy imprecision toward the wolf pens, unaware of the thirty guards waiting in concealed positions.
Another twenty move silently behind them to cut off their escape routes.
Your fingers dig into your palms, drawing blood.
This is right.
They’re just machines.
This is right….
23:52 – The first team reaches the outer perimeter of the wolf pens.
23:53 – A guard shifts position, weapon ready accidently alarming the wolves nearby…
23:54 – They begin barking in short, low-pitched, guttural barks.
That’s when all hell breaks loose….
Want to discover how this conflict between artificial consciousness and human control unfolds?
This is just one of many stories unfolding in the KNOXX Universe right now.
